


False Gold

by thisbluespirit



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: 500 prompts, Ficlet, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Gauda Prime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 18:51:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15757629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisbluespirit/pseuds/thisbluespirit
Summary: Some people say that, actually, money doesn’t exist.  Some days that seems to be all too true.





	False Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aralias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aralias/gifts).



> Written for aralias in the [500 Prompts Meme](http://lost-spook.dreamwidth.org/291842.html): 273 – False gold – Vila & Deva.

“How many credits was it?” said Vila. “I hadn’t finished counting when we had to make a run for it.”

Deva hesitated on the point of reply, and then glanced across at Vila. “Well, _technically_ , it was 20,000 credits.”

“I told you. I told you that ship was from Alvaris, and that’s the banking capital of this section of the galaxy. Just because –” Vila stopped, because it had been Avon who had said he couldn’t possibly crack an Alavarian security system, even the mobile ones they used in their ships, since they were based on sophisticated algorithms that needed a computer genius to unravel them, and they weren’t talking about Avon now. Or Blake. That was all part of why they were supposed to be finding a ticket off this miserable planet, which wasn’t the ideal bolt hole; it was just better than Gauda Prime, but that had been a case of anywhere but here. Now the anywhere wasn’t exactly looking too hot, either. 20,000 credits, though; 20,000 credits might make all the difference.

Deva gave a slight, irritated sigh. “Vila, will you let me finish? Yes, technically, you have 20,000 credits, but I’m afraid the gain _is_ only technical. It’s worthless.”

“What? How? Look, I know money when I see it. And this, this is definitely money. It’s not fake, or if it is, it’s so good, the people we offload it onto’ll never know. Official Alvarian ships don’t go round carrying fake money, anyway. Wouldn’t do their reputation any good.”

“I never said it wasn’t genuine.” Deva had mostly recovered his breath now, and brushed his fringe out of his face, beginning to look more like a respectable citizen. Not that he ever looked all that rebellious anyway. You wouldn’t believe it if you hadn’t seen his face on the viscasts. “It’s just that I didn’t realise that ship was Alvarian until you said. They are currently enjoying a severe economic crisis, from which they have been graciously, er, _rescued_ , as it were by the Federation. Commissioner Sleer made a personal appearance, I believe. Their currency is not worth the plastic it’s loaded onto.”

Vila’s shoulders sagged. “So, this little lot won’t even buy us a flight into the next city?”

“Probably not, no.”

“What are the odds of that?”

“High, if you load the dice the way the Federation usually do.”

Vila nodded. “Too right. Especially when Servalan’s doing the throwing.”

“Yes. We need to think of another plan.”

Vila leant against the concrete wall. “Fine. Because this place is just bursting with company vaults, buried treasure, ships left lying about unattended, and underground bunkers built by eccentric millionaires. No problem.”

“Well, we could try our luck at the space port. You never know. Some people are very careless with their planet hoppers.”

Vila looked down at the useless credits in his hands, and gave a grin, as an idea took root. “Yeah, but I’ve had another thought. What about that ship back there in the private landing bay, loaded up with completely useless credits that no one in their mind is going to want to nick? I mean, we got in easily enough just now and –” _Avon said that was impossible. Damn him._

“Given that we’ve just been chased away by their security guards, it might be trickier this time round.”

“But not impossible, right?” said Vila. “Let’s get the others to join us and work out a plan.”

Deva nodded. “I’ll go and find a safe spot to get in contact with them. What are you going to be doing?”

“Waiting here for you,” said Vila. “And dreaming about what I’d do if I had 20,000 actual, valid credits in my pockets right now.”

“Oh, in that case, I shan’t hurry,” Deva murmured, and slipped away down the narrow alley.

Vila turned, as if to speak to someone who wasn’t there: an invisible, disdainful ghost. “And it doesn’t mean that you were right. It was bad timing, that’s all. I’d have cracked it in the end anyway!”


End file.
